Honorable Intentions
by Glory1863
Summary: When Tucker asks Archer's permission to propose to Reed, he finds, much to his surprise, that it might have been easier to ask Stuart Reed.


Honorable Intentions

"Cap'n, I'd like to make an appointment to discuss something important with you." Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker, III, the chief engineer of the starship _Enterprise_ seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable as he finished his breakfast in the officers' mess.

"We could discuss it now, if you'd like," Captain Jonathan Archer responded casually.

"Thank you, kindly, Cap'n, but I'm due in Engineering in a few minutes. Malcolm wants to try out a new power configuration for the phase cannons, and I want to be there when he does it. What I'd like to see you about might take awhile, though, and you know how Malcolm gets when I'm late. Plus, this is a formal matter, and I want to do it right."

"Is it something I should be worried about?" Archer seemed much more keenly attentive now.

"Nah, it's personal, but it's important."

"How about 1700 in my ready room, then?"

"That would be fine. I appreciate it; I surely do."

"Reed to Tucker." The comlink interrupted their conversation. Annoyance was thinly veiled in the clipped, English-accented words of the ship's armory officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed.

Tucker rose and thumbed the button on the wall panel. "Keep your shirt on, Malcolm. I'm comin'. Just havin' a word with the Cap'n."

"Very good, sir. Reed standing by." All annoyance had fled at the mention of the captain. The response was by the book and the tone carefully neutral.

"Might this appointment have something to do with our rather impatient armory officer?" Archer asked with a faint smile that Tucker didn't see.

"Somethin' like that," Tucker tossed back over his shoulder just as the door to the mess closed.

This should be interesting Archer thought to himself with a grin.

At 1700 sharp, the door chime rang in Captain Archer's ready room. "Come on in, Trip. It's open." Archer looked down to sign off on a report he'd just finished reading. When he looked up again, he saw Tucker in dress uniform standing at attention in front of his desk. Archer made no effort to hide his surprise. "At ease, Trip. When you said this was formal, I had no idea you meant . . . Well, I'm feeling a little underdressed for the occasion." Archer was wearing the standard blue jumpsuit.

"No problem, Cap'n," Tucker replied. He'd relaxed a bit, but only about as much as Reed ever did in the presence of the captain. His feet were the regulation width apart, and his hands were clasped behind his back. "Like I said this mornin', I just want to do this right."

"And what exactly is 'this' that you want to do right, Trip? This morning, you indicated that it had something to do with Malcolm. Should he be here?" Archer's tone was grave.

"Yes and no," Tucker replied. At Archer's perplexed expression, he explained, "Yes, it has very much to do with Malcolm, but no, he doesn't need to be here. He shouldn't be here, in fact."

"Have a seat, Trip, and tell me what's going on." Archer sighed. He half expected to play 20 questions whenever he asked Reed anything of a personal nature. He didn't expect it of Tucker.

"I'd prefer to stand, sir," Tucker replied. He sensed that Archer was beginning to lose patience with him, and so he finally just barreled ahead. "I know it's old fashioned, but it's the Tucker way. I figured I'd eventually be havin' this conversation with Admiral Reed; but now that he's passed on, I reckon that as his CO, you're the closest thing to a dad that Malcolm's got. So, I'm lookin' for your permission to ask Malcolm for his hand in marriage."

Archer's face broke into a wide grin. "So you're about to make an honest man of my armory officer?"

"That's the plan. So, do I have your permission?" Tucker's grin matched Archer's. It hadn't occurred to him that the answer would be anything other than an unqualified "yes", so he was surprised when Archer's grin faded and his silence stretched on a bit too long.

"Cap'n?" Tucker's voice was suddenly uncertain.

"I think there are a few things we need to discuss, Trip."

"Are you sayin' 'no' Cap'n?" Tucker's confusion was growing.

"I haven't said 'yes' or 'no' yet, Trip. I said that we have some things to discuss. You told me that you wanted to do this right. You told me that I stand in the place of Malcolm's father. That means that I have to look out for Malcolm's interests. There are a couple of points that I'd like to clarify before I give my decision. So, Trip, I suggest you loosen your collar, grab something to drink and take a seat. This may, indeed, take awhile."

Tucker seemed stunned by the turn of events but eventually did as suggested. He moved to the small, unobtrusive refrigerator and extracted a soda. The familiar shape of the bottle and the bright red label with the elegant old-fashioned script marked it as comfort food for a southern boy like Trip. With his other hand, he grasped a chair and was about to sit backward on it, but at the last minute thought better of the impression that might make and sat correctly instead. "OK, Cap'n, fire away," he said.

"I'm encouraged by the fact that you said you wanted to do this right, Trip, but given your past romantic encounters, I have to ask: Are you sure Malcolm's the one? Divorce may no longer be a big deal on Earth, but I suspect that when Malcolm promises ''til death do us part' that will be **exactly** what he means. If you change your mind in the future, then he'll probably release you from your vow - he's not one to waste resources on a fight he can't win - but he's unlikely ever to take a romantic chance on someone else. Leaving aside the pain of such a rejection, he wouldn't consider himself free of his vow regardless of what the lawyers said."

"Malcolm's the one. He's smart, funny as hell when he wants to be, drop dead gorgeous and . . . passionate." Tucker blushed a bit at the last. "I don't know what else to tell you, Cap'n." Tucker's grin was back.

Archer's wasn't. "Well, I suggest you think of something, Trip. Good looks and good in bed don't last forever. If that's all your relationship with Malcolm is based on, then what you've got is lust, not love. That's not enough for marriage."

It had finally dawned on Tucker that what he thought would be a slam dunk - asking his best friend (after Reed, of course) for permission to marry the stunning armory officer - might turn out instead to be as difficult a proposition as making the same request of Stuart Reed.

When Tucker answered, it was no longer in a bantering tone. "It might have started out like that. Hell, you've seen Malcolm. Can you blame me? But it didn't stay that way long. I've always respected him."

"You could have fooled me," Archer broke in. "Your arguments with him are legendary."

"Like I said, he's passionate - and so am I - about work and about life, not just sex, although I ain't got any complaints in that department in case you're wonderin'. Good in bed may not be enough for marriage, but unhappy in bed sure enough can ruin one. Me and Malcolm, we synch up just fine in that department, thank you for askin'." Tucker's face had gone beet red. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that the interview would take this turn. And if Malcolm ever found out about it . . . Well, that would take care of any worry Archer had about Reed, divorce and 'til death do us part. Malcolm would kill him!

Archer held up a hand. "That's fine, Trip. I'll take your word for it." It was more than he had really wanted to know.

"Look, Cap'n, Malcolm brings out the best in me professionally. He's taught me more about weapons systems than I ever thought I'd need or want to know. He's got some amazin' ideas about improving the transporter. I gotta work hard to keep up with him. And I'll tell you something else - if anything happened where you lost all the officers in Engineering, Malcolm knows enough about warp theory in general, and this engine in particular, to get you home. Nothing fancy, mind, but home." Archer noted with approval how Tucker's bright blue eyes shone with pride as he praised Reed's abilities.

"Now, about those arguments you mentioned. I reckon you don't mean just the professional ones. The grapevine on this ship is legendary, too, so you must have heard tell about some of the private disagreements we've had. Well, they weren't all that they've been cracked up to be, but they were bad enough." Tucker paused for a moment, his eyes staring at some point just over Archer's right shoulder, but what he saw were quick flashes of painful memories. Archer waited patiently, wordlessly for him to continue. He was beginning to sense a new level of maturity in his chief engineer.

"Malcolm and me, we realized we were headed for a breach - a really bad one - if we didn't come up with a better strategy for handling disagreements than the old break up to make up cycle. Neither one of us wanted that, so we sat ourselves down and worked us out some fair fightin' rules." Tucker paused again and held up the cola bottle before taking a swig. "Plus, I've been layin' off the hard stuff. Malcolm's career means a lot to him. He don't need me gettin' him into trouble and messin' it up for him 'cause I'm a tad bit overserved." So, Archer thought, this was what was behind his friend's sudden teetotaling ways and the relative dearth of reports of Tucker/Reed angst circulating amongst the crew on that legendary grapevine.

"Now, I'm not saying that it's all sweetness and light between us. We got our issues just like any other couple, but we're learnin' to pick our battles. You gotta let some of the little stuff slide - like which way is the correct way to put the toilet paper in the dispenser." Tucker grinned. Archer shook his head but couldn't suppress his own grin.

Tucker continued, "Now, when it comes to something important - like just how much more power Malcolm's gettin' for the phase cannons - things can still get a little loud. Don't know where that's comin' from - ain't my folks' way or Malcolm's folks' way either - but it works for us."

"What was that other thing? Oh, yeah, looks don't last either. Well, I wouldn't care if Malcolm did put on 10-20 pounds. He'd have a little reserve for the times he says he's too busy to eat. I wouldn't have to worry about him so much."

"He does seem to be taking better care of himself lately, though," Archer offered. "Is that because you're nagging him?"

"Less than you think, Cap'n. Malcolm just needed to realize that he's a person of value, not just a uniformed body fillin' a job description. I'm not sayin' that it's all 'cause I love him; far from it. He knows he has the respect of his officers and the crew - hell, even the MACOs came 'round. What's really made him bloom, though, is that he's finally gettin' that he's liked personally and just the way he is. I'm pretty sure he didn't get much positive reinforcement at home. Now, if you don't mind, Cap'n, that's all I'm gonna say about that." The set to Tucker's jaw indicated to Archer that whether he minded or not, the topic was closed. Archer just nodded. He figured he'd heard all he really needed to know. It pleased him that Tucker was protective of Reed on many levels. Reed, who went out of his way to watch their backs, finally seemed to have someone who had his.

"Do you know what Malcolm wants for his life, Trip? Let's say, where he wants to be and what he wants to be doing in 5 years when the mission is over."

"We've talked about settlin' down on Earth. I'd like to work on the latest warp project. Maybe do some teachin'. Malcolm's all for weapons R&D. Big surprise, huh?"

"He's never shown an interest in commanding his own ship?" Archer probed.

"No, he never has - and I've asked him straight out. I think he's got real potential, but . . ." Tucker shrugged. He had already accepted the fact that there would be some things about Reed that he would never know or understand.

"I agree about his potential," Archer said, "but we each have to make our own way, make our own choices and live with the results. You know I'd help him any way I could if he changed his mind?"

"Aye, Cap'n, I figured as much, and I thank you for it. It would mean a lot to Malcolm." Again, Archer noted with approval Tucker's pride in, and care for, Malcolm Reed.

"You wouldn't make a bad captain, either, Trip." Archer smiled, but his tone was serious.

"Thank you, kindly, but I think I'm happier with my engines just like Malcolm is happier with his weapons. I think we're about ready to settle down, too. Enough of this galavantin' around as Grandma Tucker calls it."

Archer nodded. "What about kids, Trip? I know you wouldn't be adverse to having a little Charles "Quad" Tucker, IV, crawling about and dismantling everything within reach. How does Malcolm feel about that?"

"We haven't discussed it much. I get the feelin' Malcolm isn't too keen on the idea. He's got his reasons . . ."

"But you don't agree with them, do you?" Archer broke in.

Tucker was silent for a long moment. He knew Malcolm was afraid of repeating his own father's mistakes. He also knew that Archer wasn't stupid - he probably had guessed as much - but Tucker wasn't about to shoot his mouth off and confirm it. Besides, he had faith in Malcolm. He just needed a little more time to help Malcolm grow some faith in himself when it came to this delicate subject. Archer could almost sense the gears turning in his friend's mind. When Tucker answered, it was slowly and carefully. "I understand where he's comin' from, even if I think he might be mistaken. It's a big step - havin' kids - and one we need to give a lot more time and consideration to before makin' a final decision. It's not something to jump into without lookin', but it's not something to reject out of hand, either. The first thing, though, will be to get settled on Earth. No offense to Travis and the rest of the Boomers, but tryin' to raise kids on a ship like _Enterprise_ just isn't right. They don't need to be goin' to places like the Expanse."

Archer nodded thoughtfully.

"Look, Cap'n, Malcolm and I will work it out when the time is right. There may be some raised voices - there may even be some slammed doors and some uncomfortable silences - but we'll get things straightened out. It's how he is - and I know better than to try to change him. It's how I am, too, since I'm bein' strictly honest here. Malcolm puts up with more than his fair share of 'stuff' as well." Tucker drained the soda bottle and started to grin. "I figure you have to say 'yes', Cap'n. Who else would put up with us? So how about it - do I have your permission to propose to Malcolm?"

Archer steepled his fingers and looked down at his desk in silence. He'd never really intended to refuse Tucker's request, but Tucker didn't need to know that. He'd known Tucker for a long time - knew that he wore his heart on his sleeve, knew that he tended to be in love with the idea of being in love, knew that he liked the thrill of the chase but most of all, knew that he had been looking for something that he hadn't been able to find - until he'd met Malcolm Reed.

Archer could have told Tucker that his fling with Natalie wouldn't work out. Not because she was female - when it came to falling in love, Trip was a strong proponent of equal opportunity. Hell, Tucker had even made a couple drunken passes at him back in the day, passes they'd both found easy to shrug off in the sober light of day. No, Natalie and Trip would never have worked out because of the kind of woman she was. She was a hot little number, no doubt about it, but she was also a southern belle in the style of Scarlet O'Hara - ambitious, self-centered and more than a little vain. She liked having Trip around for arm candy - a handsome man whose job as engineer on Earth's first warp 5 vessel gave him a degree of notoriety that attracted attention to himself and to anyone who was with him. The fact that it also paid well probably hadn't escaped her notice, either. She enjoyed the fact that Trip was equal parts Ashley Wilkes and Rhett Butler and knew how to play to either one to her advantage. She wasn't the type, though, to be satisfied playing the faithful little wife waiting patiently at home for her husband to return from adventures in space. Oh yeah, Archer could have warned him to expect that "Dear John" letter, but experience had taught him that Trip wouldn't have believed him - his optimistic nature leading hope to triumph over experience every time - and if he'd pushed it, then he would have ruined their friendship, so he'd dropped a few subtle hints, ones that could - and did - easily sail right over Trip's head.

Malcolm Reed was, as the old 20th century politician had said of something in an entirely different context - though exactly about what had slipped Archer's mind for the moment - a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. The prospect of having breakfast one-on-one with his captain had been at least as painful - probably more so - then having the spike from a Romulan mine driven through his thigh. But his dynamic with Tucker had been different. Something had happened between them in that shuttlepod. Something had happened again after his close encounter with the mine. Somehow they had come together.

And then the Xindi happened. Tucker's little sister, Lizzie, had been killed in the attack and Tucker had pushed Reed out of his life. With typical Tucker logic - at least when it came to affairs of the heart - he'd decided that Reed was sure to die and that he couldn't survive another loss like that, so he'd made a preemptive strike. Reed had absorbed the punishment. He'd even tolerated whatever that was Tucker had had going on with T'Pol. Somehow, they'd gotten back together and stronger than before. Archer smiled to himself. If those two could survive that, then they could survive anything.

"Cap'n? Tucker to Archer . . ."

Archer looked up with what he hoped was a perfectly neutral expression on his face. "Yes, Trip, you have my permission to propose to Malcolm." His face broke into a smile.

"Hot damn!" Tucker jumped to his feet, his face radiant with the biggest grin Archer had ever seen.

"So, do you think he'll say 'yes'?" Archer was laughing as he asked.

"Damn straight I do. It wouldn't have made much sense for me to ask your permission if I thought I was gonna be shot down now would it?"

Archer gave a small, amused shake of his head. Apparently, whatever Tucker and T'Pol had had going on had at least improved certain aspects of Tucker logic.

"You know I'd like to officiate at the ceremony, Trip. It's one of the better perks of being the captain."

"And you know I'd like that, Jon. I 'spect Malcolm would, too, but I also 'spect I better ask him just to be sure. You never know. He might want St. Paul's or somethin'."

Archer chuckled. "Yes, I suspect you should. Have you given any thought to a best man?"

"Well, I was sorta considerin' askin' T'Pol."

"T'Pol?" Archer sat up straight in surprise.

"Assumin' you're officiatin', yeah. The people who stand up with ya are supposed to help ya stay on the straight and narrow. I ever make any noises 'bout ditchin' Malcolm that T'Pol hears about and she'd be on my ass quotin' Surak about how illogical that was faster than a warp 9 engine. I'm tellin' ya, Jon, that's somethin' I don't need. Don't even want to think about it!" Tucker shuddered slightly.

"And what's worse is that she'd be right, too."

"There is that," Tucker agreed with a quirk to his lips.

Just then the door chime rang. "Enter," Archer called out. The door slid open to reveal Malcolm Reed whose eyes widened slightly as he took in Tucker in his dress uniform.

"Please pardon the interruption, Captain. I will return at your convenience."

"Trip and I had pretty well wrapped things up and were just shooting the breeze." Trip nodded in agreement. "What can I do for you, Malcolm?"

"I have the report on the phase cannon upgrades. You did ask for it 'soonest', sir." Reed stepped forward and handed a PADD to Archer. "I'm afraid there's been a spot of bother with the aft cannon."

Archer took the PADD. "Let's have a look." Reed stepped back and stood at ease with his arms crossed at the wrists behind his back as Archer began skimming the report.

After a bit, Tucker said in a low tone, "Malcolm, what are ya givin' me the evil eye for?"

"I am not giving you 'the evil eye', Commander," Reed hissed back.

"It's 'cause I'm wearin' my dress uniform, isn't it?" When Reed didn't answer, Tucker continued in the same low tone of voice, "Remember last night when you reminded me that I needed to do the laundry but I wanted to do somethin' else?" Archer pretended to be deeply engrossed in the mathematics of the latest power upgrade to the phase cannons but raised his eyes just enough to see the blush on the cheeks of both of his officers. "Well, Malcolm, you were right. That damned aft cannon blew a hydraulic line again and I had to crawl in there and fix it. Got gunk all over myself. Had an appointment with the Cap'n at 1700 and found this was the only clean thing I had to wear. Well, I couldn't come in here lookin' like something the cat dragged in."

Archer idly wondered just how much of this tale was true. There was a time when Tucker couldn't lie to save his ass. Apparently, he'd learned something from his relationship with Reed, the former secret agent, as well as from his relationship with T'Pol. Nonetheless, he decided to intervene before his friend got in over his head. "This looks good, Malcolm. I think you're right. Either we're going to have to do something about the housing for the aft cannon or we're going to have to do something about it's kick. I don't want to give up the advantage of the added power."

"If we're done here, Cap'n, Malcolm and I can get right on that over dinner."

Archer smiled as he handed the PADD back to Reed. "You're dismissed, gentleman. Let me know what you come up with."

"Aye, sir," Reed said as he took the PADD.

Before the ready room door finished closing behind them, Archer heard Reed say, "Why don't you change into something more comfortable before dinner, love?"

"Mal, I told ya, this is the only clean . . ."

"No, it isn't. I did the laundry while I was working on the report for the Captain."

Whatever concerns he may once have had about Tucker and Reed making it legal, Archer knew he'd done the right thing. Those two were as good as married already. Now where had he put the PADD with the wedding ceremony on it?


End file.
